


Kiss Of Life

by LeShyWolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: After S3, Character Death, Death, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Romance, slight AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeShyWolf/pseuds/LeShyWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giving him the kiss of life is a mistake. Ever since that day my world has been a hectic whirlwind of golden eyes, sharp teeth and people with a PMS problem every full moon. To think, the only problematic issues I've ever had was burning my stupid toast. Slight AU. After Season 3. Pairing not decided.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy ^_^

"Oh bloody hell."

My fingers drum on my right leg in boredom and impatience, eyes drifting to the outside of the car window. I look through the clouding condensation already formed on the glass from the winter air and observe all the pedestrians stuck behind a line of police officers. Curiosity perks in my mind as I tilt my head slightly to the side. I shift in the seat to try and get a better glance at the cause of traffic, body squeaking above the black leather.

"Of all days..."

Ignoring Tia's grumpy grumbles as she slams her hand on the wheel in frustration, a scowl passing over her Chinese features. Her brows are furrowing in irritation, a thin line settling on her glossy lips. I lean over towards the window with a quirking eyebrow due to my inquisitive nature. I'm wondering what the all commotion is, dramatic images of aliens being discovered flashing in my mind are quickly swatted away. My imagination is quite an active one, as people will say. Tia mostly, for example.

She's worked up because she was dropping me off to my first day of school then wham and bam, have you know it, there's heavy traffic. She also has work in thirty minutes, in ten minutes we've barely moved a centimeter. If it keeps up at this rate, she'll be late as well. I briefly glance at her with a guilty twinge twisting inside the pit of my stomach. Maybe I should just walk, I don't know the way but I don't want to make her late on her first day. The worst I can get is a detention and a bad rep, she can get fired.

The whole reason we're here is because of her job, I'll be damned if this trip is for nothing. She put all her savings into this and I even added a few of my work funds into it, not to mention the Christmas cash from distant family who only send simple envelopes with money instead of coming down and delivering that awkward hi. Then again, I prefer it that way, I'm not the best at social events...

"Why don't you pull over, I'll walk." I offer even if it's more an order than a request. I've been brought up with manners, though.

"No, you don't know the way there and you can't be late for your very first day." She disagrees with a shake of her head. Determination spikes in me then and I conclude her stubbornness must have rubbed off on me growing up. Like hell she'll be late. So I have to walk in the cold, lost with no idea where to go...

Reluctance conflicts in my head on if I should just stay in the car but I sigh and shake my head. I have to. Otherwise there's no point to this whole trip to another damn country. I guess the only thing left is to try and convince her, the most stubborn woman on the earth besides me. Here goes nothing...

"One late day isn't going to count for the whole term Tia, I won't be late other days and I can make up for it." Of course, I know that I just set myself a vow I most likely can't keep. What if the car breaks down in future? Or if snow stops me? Oops. Oh well. Like I've said, worst that can happen is a detention, bad rep or suspension, but I know it won't go that far. Well, maybe the bad rep part will happen, not on purpose though... "If you're late on your first day of work? You'll get fired."

"I won't be late," her jaw tenses, hands clenching on the wheel. "I won't be fired. I promised to give you a ride, and that is exactly what I'm doing."

One thing about Tia, when a promise is made, you must go through with it. I have to try and find a loophole if I'm going to convince her...

"You said you promised to give me a ride, but you didn't say all the way." I attempt to dangle the opportunity in her face, feeling a diminutive smile of victory twitch on the corners of my lips. "It's seriously fine, Tia. I have a damn GPS on my phone. I'm brilliant at following directions."

Okay, so a little white lie has managed to slither it's way on my tongue. I'm terrible at following directions. But I suppose that having a late slip is better than sleeping on the cold, dirty streets. Tia needs this job. While we're not rich or poor, we have enough money to just barely be getting by. Food, shelter and clothes is mostly all the luxuries we can have, plus the gifts from her family that don't bother to visit us.

Uncertainty dances on her face but she takes her black, glove clad hand from the steering mechanism and pinches the bridge of her nose. After rubbing her eyes with the same fingers, she leans back in her chair with a tired huff. I eye her with a hopeful spark striking up in my chest. As Mr. Charlie Sheen as previously said before, I think I'm Winning the battle.

A grimace dashes on my own features at the bad inner pun. I push away my thoughts when I notice Tia sitting up and eventually, unwillingly but surely, nods in confirmation. I secretly do a mental dance of triumph at my achievement. "I'm not happy about it, but fine. At least let me drive you to the roundabout. I have to turn left there for my own route anyway."

"Seems fair." I easily agree, seeing no point to decline.

When she turns the roundabout, I hop out and winter air slaps me square in the face. I shiver and send her a wave goodbye. She returns the gesture before driving off down the road to join the mass of cars. Turning, I step forward down the curb as I look down at my phone. A groan escapes me when I see the unfortunate case of the battery on a low percentage, when I need it there never seems to be a lot of charge on the phone. But when I don't need it, the battery happens to be full of juice.

It's just sodding typical...

Searching the name of my new school with the GPS app on my phone, I do my best to follow the instructions, seeming to follow the trail of cars down the long, narrow road. Eventually I turn to another road, the pavement being 'L' shaped with a curve, but as I continue on my journey in the cold breeze, my feet halt as if I've suddenly been turned to stone wen my gaze catches glimpse of something.

The blood stops pumping in my veins and freezes, but not simply because of the weather. Dread slowly flows through me as apprehension prickles on the back of my neck, raising hairs. My heart ceases the beating that keeps my body functioning, skipping a beat. My eyes widen to the size of flying saucers as my brain short circuits and shuts down, breath catching in my now tight throat.

I'm now witnessing the reason for the traffic.

There's a road block that's closed off to pedestrians, a crowd of noisy and nosy people standing stuck behind a bunch of policemen and people stepping out of an ambulance, walking towards something. But that isn't exactly what catches my sharp eyesight. It's what they're walking towards.

There's a boy around my age lying out on the road. He's limp and lifeless. Limbs sprawling out like a rag doll that's been thrown about too much by an overactive child. His hooded eyes are eerily staring unblinking up at the dark grey sky as a dark pool of shiny blood flooding beneath his head, lips parted as if he has just taken his last breath.

He probably has.

I find myself staring at the boy, an uneasy sickly feeling growing in the pit of my stomach as nausea threatens to force my guts to spill out. Bile rises into my mouth but I accidentally swallow and cringe in disgust. Both at the situation and the vile taste stuck on my tongue. This is the most horrible thing I've ever seen in my life.

Oh god.

Glancing between the road I'm supposed to go in and the ambulance as they cover his body and lift it into the back, sirens going off as it dives down the road. A strange impulsive desire to follow it sinks in and before I know what I'm doing, I find myself sprinting after the shrieking emergency vehicle.

Of course, I'm no fit professional athlete so I lose it somewhere along the way. I settle for using the last of my battery power to find the location of the nearest hospital. He must still be alive otherwise they wouldn't be rushing so much to get there. He can't die. He can't.

I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing, but when I arrive at the hospital after an hour or so, I realize something as I anxiously rush through the automatic doors with my hair flailing over my face; I don't even know his name.

Chewing my bottom lip, I decide to walk up to the reception anyway. Slowly. Nervously. Biting my nails. I fidget as the blonde woman at the desk looks up tiredly, licking my lips and forcing my fingers from my teeth, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Can I help you?" She asks politely, but I know under her facade all she wants to do is go home and crash on her bed. I don't blame her.

"Uh," I cough uncomfortably, fiddling with the hem of my blouse. "I don't suppose you saw a boy being wheeled in? Just been in a car accident?" Wow, way to narrow it down. A hundred car accidents probably happen in this town.

The woman seems to echo my thoughts, raising an eye brow. "Could you tell me his name?"

"Uh... no?" I say cautiously, pressing my lips together. She looks annoyed at this, thinking I'm wasting her time probably.

"I'm afraid I can't help you." A clear dismissal. I nod and take a submissive step back, but then think about my new school and Tia, guilt seeping in. I haven't bunked the first day for nothing. I can't give up now.

"Please try?" I plead again as I lean forward. "I'll be honest, he's not my family, but I have talked with him a couple of times before. He helped me a lot in a rough time last night. I want- I need to see if he's okay. Alive. Wouldn't you want to do the same?"

My acting skills and my Jedi mind-controlling powers aren't really up to snuff, but she seems to feel sorry for me enough as she sighs heavily, turning to the computer like she's taking care of a burdening chore. "What time and where did his accident happen? I can't guarantee anything and he could be in surgery."

I tell her the location it happened and estimate the time when I was walking down the road, trying my best to remember. She tells me to take a seat in the waiting room and that she'll tell me when he's out of surgery. She told me his name, and it's a strange one.

Stiles Stilinski.

Maybe he's foreign?

What if he doesn't even speak English?

Doesn't matter, I don't plan on having a conversation with him.

After waiting for what seems forever, I consider playing a game on my phone but shake the idea after deciding it's inappropriate. But then again, I'm skipping school, the first day for that matter, just to see if a stranger is still alive after what looks like a violent car accident, which isn't likely with that pool of blood and empty eyes I saw.

"Stilinski?"

I stand from the chair instantly, but feel awkward when another brown haired man rises from his own chair. He looks pale and sick with worry, possibly because he's related. Maybe the boy's father. Oh, he's staring. Heavy, pale grey-blue eyes are gazing at me in surprise. Again, awkward.

The moment is short lived, as the doctor gives the father very grim, sympathetic looking eyes, oh no. God no. I already know what's coming, and it seems the father does too. His eyes water up as he stares at the doctor. Sorrow mixing with the tiny hope shining in his teary blues, he seems to be clinging onto the idea that maybe this is all a prank, that his son will jump out and yell the whole thing was a joke.

But I know better.

And it seems so does he.

The doctor looks at me too, assuming that I'm close with the boy. He throws me a sad, pitiful grimace before bowing his head in respect and deep apologies towards the father.

"I am incredibly sorry to tell you this, but..." I see the hope vanish into nothing in his eyes, exterminated from existence. He looks so lost, so sad, empty. My heart pains at the sight and I can feel the determination flaming in my body. He won't be for long. "Your son didn't make it through surgery."

He collapses to his knees in shock before we can react, the doctor attempts to help him up in pity but the Sheriff thrashes his hands to push him violently away with an angry, wailing cry. There's a growl to his voice as he fights the doctor off. "Where is he? I want to see him! Where is my son?!"

I watch uselessly from the sidelines, eyes wide. His gaze is furious, piercing, but also so, so sad. Angst fills his features, tears spilling down his cheeks as he demands his order like a vicious beast. He sobs out his next words in a voice breaking angry yell, "Where the hell is my son?! I want to see my goddamn son!"

Security guards try to restrain him, but he fights back, nothing left to lose. A pretty looking, dark haired and tanned skinned woman soon rushes in, holding up her hands and stopping them, standing between. "Hey-!" She sternly glares at him, growling like a protective lioness. "Stop! Can't you see he's upset? Sedating him won't help." She turns, expression softening, a deep sadness of her own settling in her features.

"I am so sorry." She whispers, genuinely, like she was close to his son too. She reaches out, embracing him. He calms down slightly, but still looks immensely upset. He returns the hug, clinging onto her like she's his lifeline as the people in the waiting room observe the dramatic scene.

"I want my son, Melissa." His voice trembles. "Please. I need to see him."

"Of course." She softly, a lump forms in my throat just from watching the whole scene. Eyes watering up. I sniff and wipe my tears, squishing my emotional, sensitive side away. I've always been sensitive like this, but now isn't the time. My strongly motivated heart clenches intensely and I decide something set in stone, jaw tightening.

Stiles Stilinski won't be missed.

I give his father an hour, then I get passed the doors by putting on the tears and saying how much I just wanted to say goodbye to my 'boyfriend' (since I know his name now it's easy to pull off). They let in the 'emotional' teenage girl to see her first love one last time feeling some pity.

The cold room that keeps bodies is incredibly eerie and puts all my nerves on edge. Unease floods into my veins and I swallow, concentrating on the task at hand. I'm about to quickly run to his corpse when I see his father leaning over him, crying as he stares at the lifeless form that is the previous Stiles Stilinski.

"Excuse me?" I whisper softly, feeling so incredibly rude. But it's necessary. His father will thank me without knowing in the future.

His hands clench around the metal table Stiles lays on, cold, empty eyes meeting my gaze. "I'm not done."

"I'm very, very sorry." I'm careful. Cautious. He's on edge. A grieving man. "I was just hoping to say goodbye to Stiles. It'll only take five minutes."

"Who're you?" He asks, eyes still examining me warily.

"I met Stiles once." I don't clarify when, just in case he was somewhere else at the time I say he was with me. "He was nice to me. When I saw..." I stop talking, not wanting to bring up memories of how his son looked dead in the road. "I just wanted to saw goodbye to one of the nicest guys I've ever met."

He gives me these intense, piercing, burning eyes. Eventually, he tensely nods. "Five minutes."

"That's all I ask." I say gratefully, he passes me and exists the door after one long lingering look on his son, eyes full of sorrow.

Breathing in a bucket full of disgusting, cold air, I walk over to Stiles. Up more closely now, I see his features. His brown hair is short, his skin a light tone. My eyes trail the cute nose, how it turns up at the tip in a kind of endearing way. His lips are no longer parted, his eyes no longer open and glassy. He looks so peaceful, lying there. Yet, he seems so... dead.

Well, he is dead.

Swallowing reluctantly, I stroke his cheek and lean forward hesitantly. I close my eyes and move forward before I can chance my mind. My lips smash against his unmoving ones so hard that I swear mine swell up slightly. As I stand there, my mouth on his, nothing happens. Then, slowly, I can feel the ball of warm inside of me flowing from my skin and in his lips. I place my hands either side of his cheeks, feeling the veins in my arms slither around like snakes, turning dark and crawling into me as I absorb the death and give him life.

I start to feel weaker, my legs like jelly and my head throbs. Now I stop and stumble backwards as he shoots up with a huge gasp, taking in the air of the room like he's never breathed before. The sheet covering his body slips down from his chest to his legs. Mouth opening large to gather as much oxygen as possible. His very wide eyes are filled with shock, confusion, disorientation and briefly they drift to me. I wipe my mouth, then sprint out of the room, pushing passed his father.

As I run frantically away, I hear a scream of shock and fear, then of relieved joy. Then hysterical laughter, the sounds mixing with the thuds of my footsteps echoing down the corridor.

I vowed to myself no one would miss him...

Because he wouldn't be anywhere for them to miss him.

Now I just have to come up with a reasonable excuse for why I skipped school.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment, constructive feedback, if you like it, you know :')


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